Duck Lake you're the prayer inside me

for a moment, at the sound of such a southern drawl, polar-cub almost thought it was dolce. smile wide upon her face, though it did not take long for it to rest. this man was not the scarred one she had met on her first day within these wilds, rather, it was someone else entirely. i know, she murmured, tongue decorated with an arctic cadence. though her mind urged her to reconsider, snowwoman held a stubborn streak, and once her mind was set on something, she would not surrender.

a breath was drawn, and a hopeful expression was adorned upon a pale face. she turned back to the southern man with glimmering pale eyes. ...but it is worth the attempt, her tail was high above her rump, marking her confidence in the matter, almost invigorated. almost. a distant ache within her muscles punished her for moving too far in too short of a timespan, but she was certain that if she just had faith in herself, and in this man of which she did not know the name of, she could complete this hunt.

humour laced her words, then. challenging in their demeanor: humour me, stranger.